Competition to win one race entry to the 2017 Simplyhealth Great Birmingham Run Half Marathon.
CLOSING DATE for entries is 11:59 on Friday 30 June 2017.
By entering the prize draw, entrants agree to be bound by the following terms and conditions:
The winner will be chosen at random, providing they answer the following question correctly: Q: What is the race distance for the 2017 Simplyhealth Great Birmingham Run Half Marathon?
The winner will receive one guaranteed race entry to take part in the 2017 Simplyhealth Great Birmingham Run Half Marathon, which will be held on Sunday 15 October 2017.
Entries must be made via the vettimes.co.uk website.
Open to United Kingdom residents over the age of 18 years only. Proof of eligibility must be provided upon request. Only one entry per person.
Offer not open to employees of Simplyhealth Professionals, event partners, sponsors or anyone else connected with the promotion.
The prize that can be won is: One guaranteed race entry to the 2017 Simplyhealth Great Birmingham Run Half Marathon, to be held on 15th October 2017, with reasonable travel expenses covered. Entry must be taken in 2017 and cannot be deferred until 2018.
The prize does not include anything other than that specifically mentioned in paragraph 4 above.
Travel Expenses: Simplyhealth Professionals will cover your reasonable travel expenses to and from the event. Details of any rail/bus/taxi/fuel/parking costs for which reimbursement is sought can be claimed for from Simplyhealth Professionals
The winner will be notified after the competition has closed by Simplyhealth Professionals. The winner will be notified by 17:00 on Friday 14th July 2017.
No responsibility is accepted for entries that are illegible or lost, delayed or damaged electronically or online during the promotion. Entries that are not submitted in accordance with these terms and conditions and/or that are delayed, damaged, incomplete, altered, and illegible or otherwise defective will be disqualified.
The prize is non-transferable. There is no cash alternative.
Simplyhealth Professionals will provide a website link to the official Great Run registration process. This must be completed by Friday 4th August 2017. Failure to complete the registration process by Friday 4th August 2017 will result in the winner forfeiting the prize.
The Promoter, Simplyhealth Professionals, reserves the right to feature the name, image and location of the prize winner in any future marketing materials, website publications, promotions and/or prize draws.
Finals are imminent, so my colleagues and I are going through the annual rite of passage more commonly know as “revision hell”.
Let’s break down the various stages… I think I’m at around number 5.
1. Denial
A couple of days into your revision, you’re thinking of the long weeks between now and the exam – you’ve got ages, it’ll be fine.
You’ve done two hours of “reading” today – most of which was probably spent trying to find the right set of notes, ordering your highlighters into an appropriate rainbow effect and googling funny cat videos.
You deserve a break – after all, in a few weeks you’ll be snowed under and won’t have the luxury of time to do other things and enjoy life outside the imprisonment of your degree.
2. Panic (stage 1)
This is probably somewhere around a couple of weeks into “proper revision”.
You’ve still got a few weeks left, but, be honest, you probably haven’t been massively productive so far. You’ve looked at a calendar, maybe drawn up a timetable, looked at the list of topics to cover… and absolutely crapped yourself.
3. Bargaining
Shortly after panicking, you try to work out how you’re realistically going to tackle this.
“If I cram 10 lectures worth of notes into half an hour, I should be able to cover the course in time,” you reason.
Maybe at this point, you’re already deciding which topics to bin and, instead, go for a “strategic approach”, which involves trying to work out questions likely to be asked. However, in the time you spend looking up past papers, asking people a year older what they were asked and trying to calculate what hasn’t come up in a while, you probably could have just read about those diseases and conditions you are sacrificing.
You also waste a lot of time looking up the elusive course information documents you definitely should have found a long time ago, but were not really listening when advised to do so in your final year induction lecture.
You desperately work out which parts of the exam you have to pass, where you could make up marks, and the worst possible mark or grade you could get and still pass.
This doesn’t really change your outlook at all.
4. Past caring
You feel like you haven’t seen daylight for days or worn anything but “comfy clothes” for a while, while the diet/fitness regime has gone down the toilet.
You’ve been locked in this hell forever and still feel like you have forever left (probably about two weeks). You’ve lost all motivation and just want it to end now.
5. Panic (stage 2)
Anytime from a week to a few days before, panic sets in again.
Okay, you really have to get your act together. It’s now or never – you’ve got five years worth of stuff to learn in four days… sounds reasonable?
But you don’t have time for a full-scale breakdown. This panic stage tends to be more productive and actually kicks your lazy butt into action. Get the caffeine on board and get on with it.
6. Hysteria
The combination of exhaustion and your brain feeling like total mush results in a drunk-like hysteria. Something that probably isn’t that funny makes you cry with laughter; a diaphragm deep bellow, as if you’d forgotten how to laugh or be happy.
You realise you’ve probably gone a bit mad, but don’t even care – the end is in sight.
7. Acceptance
Whether it’s the night before the exam as you close the books and try to get a good night’s sleep, or as you walk into the exam room buzzing from the seven Red Bulls you downed in the past four hours off the back of yet another pre-exam all-nighter, you will finally reach a point of acceptance. There’s nothing more you can do now except stay awake long enough to finish the paper your degree depends on.
It’s all very well when people who’ve likely never sat a veterinary exam offer you extremely unhelpful and unrealistic advice – such as “drink green tea instead of coffee”, “get lots of sleep” and “take regular breaks” (jeez, if I took a break every 15 minutes, it would take 20 years to get this degree) – but you’ve got this far using whatever “unhealthy” method works for you, so believe in yourself. It’s the last push now and you’ll never have to sit an exam again (maybe).
Anyway, I’d better get back to my cocktail of Pro Plus, chocolate and Earl Grey.
So, with less than three weeks until finals, my friends and I have finished rotations. Some of us have had job interviews and some have accepted job offers. This is all getting a bit real…
Supposedly, we’re ready to take on the outside world as real vets. We’ve got heads full of knowledge and hands that have meticulously repeated sutures, catheterisations, and injections to maintain muscle memory. But what we haven’t got is experience.
Sure, we’ve consulted while on rotations and, before that, we had communication skills tutorials, and although these were realistic – with very good actors screaming at you for losing their hypothetical cat out the practice window or bursting into tears as you explain that their dog died under anaesthetic – they just aren’t quite the same.
Gaining experience
Any consultations we have done on rotations have been fairly straightforward, with the vet in the background to interject or, at least, within shouting/pager distance to check anything you’re unsure of.
We have been involved in high stakes situations where things have gone wrong or an animal’s life has depended on the treatment and care we’ve contributed to – and as much as rotations are aimed at making you think and make your own decisions, you’re always steered in the right direction, or someone intervenes before you do something momentously stupid.
We may feel like we’re carrying a good deal of responsibility at times but, at the end of the day, it hasn’t been our necks on the line.
And what about money? A lot of our consulting in final year is done at charity clinics, where the treatment is often free or very cheap. This means treatment options are much more limited, so you learn how to approach things on a budget, but you never really have to have that conversation with the owner as such.
Any consults done at the university’s small animal hospital are referrals – many of which are long-standing patients coming in for rechecks, so the owners have already been dealing with the insurance or have sorted payment with the reception staff.
We are assigned a number of tasks throughout final year that make us consider cost, such as discussing the costs of anaesthesia and treatment options for certain conditions, or pricing farm visits in first opinion practice. But again, it isn’t really us, the students, making the final decisions based on the client’s budget.
In at the deep end
So we’ve got the veterinary science bit nailed (well, hopefully – finals pending). But going into that first day as a qualified vet is going to be nerve-wracking for everyone, and that’s when the education will really begin. That’s where we will learn the things no one can really teach you, nor can you pick up until you are the vet making the final decisions – your neck on the line.
No one can teach you how to hold your tongue when the client opposite you is being completely irrational, or how to keep your composure when another breaks down in tears over the death of a pet, which you are really quite emotionally invested in too.
Having the internal battle with yourself over what the ideal diagnostic or treatment protocol would be, versus what is realistically affordable, becomes something of an art – there’s no formula or calculation to work out the best approach. As for actually having the responsibility on your own shoulders, and not falling apart when things go wrong, that takes resilience.
These are all things that will come with experience. It will be a steep learning curve, I’m sure, but essential if we’re to embark on the journey of life after vet school and master the art of veterinary medicine.
The issue of poor mental health in the veterinary profession as a whole is becoming more recognised, and has sparked the launch of initiatives such as Mind Matters and Vetlife’s helpline service. But what about vet students specifically?
Despite not being selected for the sports teams she tried out for initially, Jordan (mounted) got on to the riding team during her second year at Glasgow.
When I was applying for vet school, I remember numerous people told me the hardest part is getting in… well, they lied. Having now spent five years at Glasgow, I can’t even comprehend why they would spread that awfully inaccurate myth.
My first inkling this oft-repeated phrase was totally unfounded came during one of our first lectures where my entire second year of A-level physics was summed up in an hour – and the pace only continued to pick up from there.
Difficult beginnings
Along with the personal struggles of moving away to university (in my case, 300 miles from home), not being selected for the sports teams I tried out for and the social pressures (feeling I had to take part in things despite feeling exhausted and wanting to sleep), it was hard.
I also had a sense of emptiness – having worked my entire life towards getting into vet school, once I got there, it was like: “Now what?”
I began to wonder whether veterinary was really the right career for me and, in the first term, seriously considered leaving.
No alternative
One of the main things that kept me there was the simple fact I didn’t know what I would do instead. I took my car back with me after Christmas, which helped with logistical issues, and started an evening creative writing class that gave me the opportunity to get away from vet school and vet students every so often.
By the summer of first year, I still wasn’t convinced I would stay. I hinged my fate on exam results, deciding I wouldn’t have the motivation to resit them because my heart wasn’t in it.
Jordan and the team of volunteers with Bolivian NGO, Comunidad Inti Wara Yassi.
However, I passed, and bundled myself on to a plane to South America to undertake some EMS in the Amazon rainforest. My time in Bolivia was incredible and rekindled a long-forgotten passion.
After that, my vet school experience shifted massively. I suddenly loved being a vet student – I got on the riding team, became more involved with the social side of vet school and continued my love of writing through getting involved with the Association of Veterinary Students.
I was the definition of the “work hard, play hard” vet student, but it was all about balance – the negatives of being a vet student were being outweighed by the positives.
Serious doubts
I still wasn’t particularly enthused by the course and merrily carried on because I was coping. Besides, a veterinary degree didn’t have to culminate in a veterinary career.
Every exam period was a rite of passage to get to the next year. Before Christmas, one year, we had nine exams in eight days – I think I averaged two hours’ sleep a night that week, but we got on with it. Everyone moaned together and everyone came out the other side, one way or another.
Nobody is immune – even at later stages in the course, those students who were high achievers and never seemed phased by anything started having doubts – serious “I’ve been to discuss where my degree stands if I drop out now” doubts.
By fourth year, I’d reached a level of acceptance that, since I’d got this far, I may as well carry on.
A sense of equilibrium
I started final year rotations absolutely terrified, but took comfort in the shell-shocked looks reflected in my classmates’ faces on the first morning of medicine rounds in the small animal hospital. We were all in the same boat.
Yet, finally, I found my stride; I have absolutely loved final year. For the first time in five years, I didn’t regret my life choices and found myself thinking “this is exactly what I want to do”. I was fascinated by medicine and felt a real sense of achievement of actually doing things for myself, such as taking consults and performing surgery.
Again, some of my peers hit their “walls” during final year, but we got them over it.
Another nugget of advice “they” tell you is final year will fly by. That one, I’m afraid, is not a lie – I can hardly believe I’m sat here with 12 months of rotations behind me, already facing finals and job applications.
All in the same boat
Jordan eventually “found her stride” during final year rotations.
Everyone has a wobble at some point and thinks “why am I doing this to myself?” The important thing is to remember other people are probably feeling the same way.
Mine was very early on, when everyone else seemed to be loving life, and I felt so alone. I felt like I would let my family and friends down if I dropped out, so felt too ashamed to say anything. However, when I eventually voiced my feelings, it transpired a lot of people were thinking the same.
A lot of support is out there now, which can be accessed in different ways. Each university will have a formalised counselling service and many vet schools now have a peer support system in place – this has been a huge success at Glasgow.
Meanwhile, Vetlife offers confidential telephone support to vets and vet students alike if you need an impartial, anonymous ear.
Feelin’ good
Glasgow recently held “Feel Good February”, a month of events and activities to raise awareness of these services and promote good mental well-being around the vet campus, part of which involved defining the problem at Glasgow specifically.
The Glasgow University Veterinary Medical Association revealed the results of a survey, which showed:
62% of current vet students felt stress had a negative impact on their everyday life
89% felt it was normal to feel stressed during a veterinary degree
This normalisation of stress can lead to students feeling they should be able to deal with it, but that the inability to cope will not translate well to life as a vet. It’s a very tough course for a number of reasons, including the workload that was described by our professor, Ian Ramsey, as “savage” in an STV interview.
However, this perception students should be stressed leads to an inability to speak out, for fear of seeming weak and “not cut out” for veterinary.
So worth it
I cannot imagine where I would be now if I hadn’t carried on with my veterinary degree. I’m so grateful friends and family supported me through everything and I made it to the point of starting a veterinary career knowing wholeheartedly this is what I want to do.
If you’re thinking of dropping out, please talk to someone – I can guarantee they’ve felt the same at some point. And if you’re having a particularly tough rotation or coming up to exams, power through and help each other – it’ll be worth it in the end!
A few weeks ago, I finished my last final year rotation, and I’m days away from finishing my last ever EMS placement – where has the time gone?!
Everybody warned us final year would fly by, but this is ridiculous. Surely it can’t be almost a year since I sat in one of the small animal hospital meeting rooms, practically shaking with fear on my first day of emergency medicine – my first day of final year – and yet, here I am.
With 12 weeks of preclinical and 26 weeks of clinical EMS under my belt, I’ve picked up a few handy tips along the way.
On the whole, I’ve had some fantastic placements, seen some incredible things and travelled to a number of far-flung destinations, but (as ever), with hindsight, there are a few things I may have done differently.
So, for those students in their earlier years, here are some things to bear in mind.
Plan your placements
This sounds obvious, and the majority of placements will need to be planned well in advance (often a year or more), purely due to practice availability. But, if you have the luxury of choice (if the practice has lots of free dates), really think about what you want to achieve before final year, and try to have at least a taste of small animal, farm and equine before rotations, if possible.
I got to final year and realised I’d had very limited experience in farm practice, so felt a bit lost at the beginning of the farm rotation. However, having now done more farm EMS – which accidentally ended up all happening at the end of final year – I feel so much more confident.
Also, think about how much EMS you want to do at which stages of the course.
You have to spread it out and start somewhere, and while you need to give yourself some downtime in final year, I think you also get a lot more out of placements the further through the course you are.
Listen to recommendations
Talk to people in your year and in the years above.
Some practices are really keen to teach, which results in a much more helpful experience for you and them alike.
The quality of your EMS placements can make a real difference – don’t get stuck somewhere you’re only allowed to stand in the corner and watch.
Do a spay clinic
Spay clinics allow you to gain hands-on experience that may be tricky to come by otherwise.
The quality of the surgery might be different to what you would see in the UK, but these clinics allow you to get hands-on experience, which may be more tricky to come by at home.
You will practise tissue handling, suturing and ligature placement – all transferable skills.
Again, listen carefully for recommendations as some clinics are better than others.
Be adaptable
There’s more than one way to skin a cat – likewise, you’ll see many different approaches to the same technique, which could be something as simple as giving an IV injection.
I was “told off” in the university hospital for giving a horse an IV the way I’d been shown on EMS. The following week – on the first opinion part of our rotation – I was told to do it a different way, again.
Learn how your supervising vet would like you to do things to stay out of trouble, but in the end you will find your own preference.
Take tips on board
The vets you meet on EMS have been in practice a while – they’ve made their mistakes and got the T-shirt, so take stock of any handy tips they might give.
Recently, one vet expressed surprise I was rectalling cows with my “strong” hand (I’m right handed), but didn’t really expand on why they were taught to use the left.
Another, older vet, strongly advised me to switch to my weaker arm because “years of having your hand squeezed inside a cow will give you horrendous arthritis”, and you’d rather that happen to your left hand and keep your right hand working. Subsequently, I swapped and soon felt competent with my left hand. I do still think the right hand is better for horses though…
Most importantly, while it can be difficult to tread the line between being too imposing and too shy, you do need to put yourself out there. Offer to do things to help you know you’re capable of, such as setting up a fluid bag.
Legality within the veterinary profession can be a bit of a minefield, especially when it comes to things like drug licensing. This leaves many new graduates in fear of doing something against the law without even realising.
However, while some veterinary legal principles are complicated but clear, others are genuinely vague, leaving us unsure on where we would stand in a court of law.
A stab in the dark
It was recently reported that stab victims, scared of the inevitable police involvement if they were to present at A&E, were turning to vets to have their wounds sutured, albeit at a handsome price of about £200. While the morality of doing a procedure such as suturing on people may be questionable, the legality certainly is.
The RCVS clearly states vets are not legally allowed to prescribe pharmaceutical products for people, but they have no specific guidelines on wound treatment.
It could be argued that, ethically, suturing should involve the use of some form of local anaesthetic (either by a local block or a transcutaneous patch) and, therefore, cannot be allowed as this would involve drug administration.
However, that’s not to say a person can’t consent to old fashioned gritting their teeth and bearing temporary pain for the sake of saving a four-hour wait in A&E.
Friend or foe?
For those who could be potentially incriminated if they sought medical help at a hospital, you can sort of understand why they’d ask someone else, like a vet, for stitches. But they aren’t alone…
A number of vets who become injured either on the job, or elsewhere, will seek the help of their colleagues, rather than take the majority of a day off to wait for the NHS to achieve a vastly similar result. After all, vets are pretty damn good at suturing and would arguably do a better job than the junior doctor on an emergency ward.
You could discuss the ethics of whether a vet should help someone who needs medical attention in varying situations and whether they are legally allowed to do so. However, charging for the service is an altogether different matter – stitching up a fellow vet, or even a family member, wouldn’t raise the question of fees, but a stranger who walks in off the street?
Cash in hand
A BBC article from 3 March (Stab victims ‘paying vets to stitch up their wounds’) reported the “going rate” to be around £200 – does this not infer the image of an underground medical procedure market, whereby vets can earn a bit of extra cash to extend their services to animals of the two-legged kind?
You have to admit, when you consider the rough cost of a bitch spay at around £150 (weight and complication-dependent), that figure has quite an impressive profit margin. Once a vet charges for the privilege, it becomes a business venture, not just an act of goodwill.
Stab victims are reportedly turning to vets to have their wounds sutured, in an attempt to avoid police involvement. IMAGE: vzmaze / fotolia.
And yet the NHS is screaming for help in A&E departments. With average waiting times at an extreme high, it’s begging prospective patients to consider whether their ailments are worthy of the emergency room or whether they could be seen elsewhere – the GP, minor injuries, pharmacy… and now the vet?
By applying skills used on animals every day, would vets not be easing some of the burden on our struggling NHS?
Risky business
But what if something went wrong? An infection of a wound, of which the bearer couldn’t explain who sutured it, should surely raise some eyebrows – and, after all, with vets being legally unable to prescribe drugs to people, the injured party could not return to the surgeon responsible and ask for antibiotics.
This is where the legal grey area becomes pertinent. Where would a vet stand if sued for wound breakdown? Members of the Veterinary Defence Society are supported for claims against their actions involving animals… but humans?
There are a lot of unanswered questions that, for me, make conducting procedures such as suturing on members of the public too risky.
Final decision?
It may be different if it were a colleague or close family member who understands the trust he or she is putting in you to do a “simple” procedure works both ways. However, even then, it’s not without elements of risk.
On a wider scale, should we, as a profession, be seen to advocate such practice? Or should our representing bodies be defining the limits of our medical interventions and reprimanding those who see the injured public as a business opportunity?
But then, would we live in even more fear of being prosecuted just for helping a fellow vet who knows full well what he or she is agreeing to?
As the end of vet school draws ever nearer, my fellow final-year students have been busy not only completing rotations, but also organising a number of events and keepsakes to act as a well-deserved send-off.
With the final-year dinner, graduation ball, final-year holiday and yearbook, we have been inundated with requests for ideas, contributions and cash.
To add to this, a number of final-year students have taken on the challenge of facing the often-gruelling weather of the north, lurking around the library after nightfall and sidling into the hospital out of hours to continue a long-standing tradition of the University of Glasgow School of Veterinary Medicine – the soon-to-be-new-graduates’ naked calendar.
Time-honoured tradition
The calendar has been a Glasgow vet school tradition for many years.
My colleagues have been baring flesh across the Scottish countryside and around the vet campus to contribute to a masterpiece of (for the most part) tasteful animal, vet or countryside-themed photos, to raise money for a number of great causes. The final-year naked calendar has been an annual fund-raiser for many years and the tradition has not died with the class of 2017.
Proceeds from sales of the calendar will be split between The Trusty Paws Clinic and Students for Animals in Need (SAIN), with a small proportion going towards our graduation ball.
It’s fantastic to be able to use the calendar tradition to support the much-loved student charities Glasgow vet school is proud to be home to.
The calendars are being sold at a pre-sale price of £8 until the end of March and will be then be available for £10 each. To order, email Alice at 2019429C@student.gla.ac.uk for bank transfer details and state how many copies are required.
Trusty Paws
The Trusty Paws Clinic was set up in Glasgow to provide free veterinary care to dogs belonging to the homeless. Students from stages of the veterinary course are involved in gaining resources, fund-raising and organisation of the monthly clinics.
The clinics involve fourth year students, supervised by a qualified vet, volunteering to conduct clinical examinations and administer basic treatments such as vaccinations, worming and flea control. I had the pleasure of being involved in a clinic last year, which enabled me to experience how appreciative the owners are.
Resources for the dogs – such as coats, food, collars and toys – are also given out at the clinics, thanks to donations via an Amazon wish list. The charity has now expanded to London, too, where RVC students run the clinics.
SAIN is a charity set up and run by students at Glasgow vet school, and offers financial aid for animals presented to the university’s Small Animal Hospital and Weipers Centre Equine Hospital that may not otherwise be able to receive the treatment they require.
Students from all year groups contribute to fund-raising and assessment of eligible cases. A number of animals have benefited from the funding available over the years.
The past couple of weeks on rotation have largely consisted of looking down a microscope or performing postmortems – and despite clinical and anatomic pathology being very different, a running theme seemed to exist across both.
On the clinical pathology week, we pored over slide after slide of blood smears and cytology samples, trying to formulate differentials from minimal or no history about the case.
We muddled through a number of biochemistry profiles and attempted interpretation, often with little or nothing to go on from the submitting clinician.
Historical significance
In anatomic pathology, we were often supplied with the history, but the clinicians would not reveal the full extent until after we had formed differential lists – even then the “full” history we were given before proceeding with postmortem examination would often be scarce.
Although we would often get there in the end, or at least in the right ballpark, I think it’s safe to say the importance of a relevant history has been drummed into us for evermore.
Going forward as new graduates – far sooner than many of us would like – I don’t think we’d dare send a sample to the university lab without filling the forms out meticulously and providing a relevant history. Making an accurate interpretation that fit the clinical picture was so much easier when a few, seemingly minor points were highlighted in the history.
The write stuff
Another lesson creeping into every rotation over the year is the sheer amount of paperwork involved in veterinary medicine – be it clinical notes, postmortem reports, lab submission forms, case reports, anaesthetic records… the list goes on.
Keeping accurate records can be the difference between being sued and being able to prove your clinical judgement at the time. Most relevant to this rotation was accurate completion of lab submission forms, so samples can be correctly identified and results sent to the right place.
It sounds obvious, but the clinical pathology staff assure us the frequency of receiving samples with important information omitted is much higher than you’d think.
Out of practice
Having explored the different aspects of clinical and anatomic pathology, while dragging a lot of material from the depths of third-year knowledge, I can appreciate how quickly some skills and understanding can be lost when you don’t practise or use them regularly.
Feeling considerably rusty at the beginning of the rotation, I feel a lot more comfortable now, but can see how vets can lose their ability or confidence to make a cytological diagnosis when in practice, especially when things get busy.
Being able to send samples to the experts is a major advantage, but I think, as new grads, we should at least have a quick look down the microscope and make a provisional call to be confirmed by the lab, rather than just sending samples straight off.
2017 has reared its hopefully not-so-ugly head, and with it comes the realisation my classmates and I are mere months from entering the real world of veterinary medicine.
The sheer number of poorly written recruitment ads has prompted Jordan to create a list of tips for advertising a job to new grad vets.
While tales of classmates getting job offers following placements become more frequent, those of us without much of a plan have, so far, remained blissfully ignorant. But now we fear our lazy flicking through the job adverts at the back of varying veterinary publications will have to become less of an exercise in procrastination and more of a quest for our future.
While my flatmate and I often indulge ourselves in shared exasperation at the lack of mixed or farm jobs, or simply flick through to see if we know the practices and try to work out who must have left, we have noticed a few patterns in poor adverts – and these mild grievances have resulted in this list of top tips for advertising a job to new grads.
(Disclaimer: these tips are not based on any success rates, merely on the opinion of myself and some of my colleagues)
Title
The most annoying thing when skimming job adverts is to read half a page of waffle, only to reach the end and realise it’s the wrong type of work or miles away from the area we’re looking around.
A short, snappy title wants to include type of work (small/farm/mixed vet), location and, perhaps, whether a new graduate is wanted. For example: “New grad position for mixed practice in Leicester.”
The practice name doesn’t really need to be there (we’ll read on to find out); the purpose of the title is to catch the eye of your prospective applicant.
Do you want a new grad?
“Suitable for new graduate” or “new graduates considered” is all we need to know. On the flip side, if you don’t want a new graduate, please say so (for example, “must have two years’ experience”), otherwise we’ll be wasting our time looking into it and wasting your time if we apply.
We also don’t really need further details on this topic. Information like “great support network for new graduate” is too wordy and the support needed will vary between individuals – we’ll only get a true feel for that on interview or trial.
Type of vet
Please, please, please say what type of practice you are or what type of vet you want. I know it sounds simple, but the number of adverts that leave me unsure whether they’re for a mixed or small animal role is frustrating. In these instances, I’ll often have to look at the practice logo to work out where to hedge my bets…
Type of vet (additional)
The term “mixed vet” doesn’t tell us a lot and “mainly SA [small animal], some LA [large animal]” doesn’t really tell us a great deal more. A clear (and preferably accurate) estimate of the likely proportions of work will give us the best idea of what to expect – “50% small, 30% farm, 20% equine”, for example.
Out-of-hours rota
Clearly stating the out-of-hours rota in an adequate amount of detail avoids any misunderstandings and helps us know what to expect from the off. For example, “1 in 3 rota” gives us a bit of an idea, but I’ve seen some really good adverts that clearly state something along the lines of: “4.5-day week with 1 in 3 weekends and 1 day off following a worked weekend.”
Things like this can be clarified at interview if not clear in the advert, but it just keeps everyone on the same page from the beginning.
Pay
Pay is not the be all and end all in a first job – and this will depend on whether other benefits are offered – but we’d still like a ballpark figure to be able to assess if what we’re being offered is reasonable.
Other benefits
A lot of practices seem to like to highlight their CPD allowance, which is all very well for those more experienced vets, but new graduates have the Personal Development Programme to occupy them in their first year of practice, so an attractive CPD allowance doesn’t mean much to us.
On the other hand, if you’re looking for a new graduate, state whether you have accommodation or a car available – again the details will be discussed at interview, but these can be a priority for some new graduates who are potentially moving to a new area. We may discard an advert that doesn’t state whether they have accommodation, even if it would transpire later they can offer some.
Final thoughts
I’m not drawn to an “all singing, all dancing” colour advert that takes up half a page in particular – the most important things for me are a clear and concise title, and an advert that is short enough to keep my attention, but includes just the right amount of detail.
It is estimated only 8% of people succeed in achieving or keeping their new year’s resolution (so the odds are against you), but if you feel this is your year to make a difference, why not incorporate your four-legged friend into that lifestyle change?
Fat cats and dumpy dogs
A lot of resolutions will be along the lines of trying to lose weight or get fitter, and while the human population has a weight problem, obesity is also rife in the UK pet population.
Headlines and statistics are forever telling us our pets are overweight, and my parents are sick of me enforcing a diet every time I go home to find my cats a little rounder than a few months previously. However, it wasn’t until I spent a few days consulting in first opinion small animal practice, as part of one of our final year rotations, that the problem really hit me.
I’m used to seeing overweight pets in the consult room while on placement with other vets and I’ve witnessed the weight loss conversation more times than I can count. But on one particular morning, when I had similar conversations myself with four out of five clients, I saw the future of my veterinary career flash before me: overweight dog after overweight dog coming through the door.
Cruel is the new kind
Despite sounding like a broken record, I can only hope my words did not fall on deaf ears. So many owners didn’t even realise their animals were overweight – “that’s just his shape”. And yet others are fully aware, but just can’t ignore their pets’ begging.
Why not substitute pet treats with a healthy alternative such as carrots, Jordan suggests.
Unfortunately, sometimes you have to be “cruel to be kind” and ignore those big round eyes that are trying to melt your heart – your dog will be better off long term being denied those extra treats, but having a healthier lifestyle.
If you think your pet may be on the larger side of normal, vets will often run free weight clinics with the veterinary nurses to allow accurate monitoring and adjustment to diet and exercise.
Everyday changes
General advice would be to cut down on meal sizes and cut out treats, or at least substitute them with a healthy alternative such as carrots. Exercise should be determined on an individual basis, dependent on any existing health conditions (such as joint problems), breed and lifestyle.
There may be a medical reason for retaining weight, so if the aforementioned doesn’t seem to be working, seek veterinary advice.
This new year, even if you can’t keep your own resolution, why not make one for your pet and help them achieve the lifestyle they deserve? Or if you’re trying to lose weight or gain fitness yourself, why don’t you and your pet do it together?
Supposedly, we’re ready to take on the outside world as real vets. We’ve got heads full of knowledge and hands that have meticulously repeated sutures, catheterisations, and injections to maintain muscle memory. But what we haven’t got is experience.
With 12 weeks of preclinical and 26 weeks of clinical EMS under my belt, I’ve picked up a few handy tips along the way.
The RCVS clearly states vets are not legally allowed to prescribe pharmaceutical products for people, but they have no specific guidelines on wound treatment.
